PRIVATE WILLIAM CADDY: A hero to remember

I’ll admit it: I am directionally challenged. It’s all I can do not to get lost crossing the street. For that reason, it came as no surprise that I got lost while driving to a friend’s house not long ago.

By Matthew Casey

The Patriot Ledger, Quincy, MA

By Matthew Casey

Posted May. 30, 2011 at 12:01 AM
Updated May 30, 2011 at 7:55 PM

By Matthew Casey

Posted May. 30, 2011 at 12:01 AM
Updated May 30, 2011 at 7:55 PM

QUINCY

» Social News

This is an updated version of a column that was originally published in May 2010.

I’ll admit it: I am directionally challenged. It’s all I can do not to get lost crossing the street. For that reason, it came as no surprise that I got lost while driving to a friend’s house not long ago.

After wandering around aimlessly for a couple of miles, I pulled into a parking lot to regain my bearings. As I passed through the lot, I happened to notice a granite monument with the words “Caddy Memorial Park” engraved on the front.

I didn’t recognize the landmark, so I made a U-turn and started to backtrack. I eventually arrived at my intended destination.

This is not an unusual occurrence. On any given day, we pass by myriad statues and memorial plaques that brave the elements in relative obscurity. Many sit unrecognized by the masses, waiting for their stories to be rediscovered.

For some reason, I remembered Caddy Memorial Park and wondered about its namesake. I decided to do a little digging.

William Robert Caddy was born and raised in Quincy, Mass. He made the varsity baseball team at Quincy High, but dropped out of school after two years to help support his mother. He found work as an assistant milkman for $25 a week.

In October 1943, Caddy was drafted into the Marine Corps. He received basic training at Parris Island and qualified as a sharpshooter. In 1944, Caddy was stationed in Hawaii for further training, and by January 5, 1945, he was bound for Iwo Jima aboard the USS Darke.

Though Iwo Jima was an unpopulated, barren island of only eight square miles, it was also home to two air fields located just 750 miles south of Tokyo. Due to its strategic importance, the island was heavily fortified and occupied by more than 18,000 Japanese troops.

On March 3, 1945, the 12th day of the battle for the island, Caddy and two others were in a remote area of the island when they were met with intense Japanese machine gun fire. The three Marines took shelter in a crater left by an exploding shell and were quickly pinned down by a sniper.

Caddy tried to advance, but was forced back. Upon his return, Caddy’s small group began a furious exchange of hand grenades with a nearby cadre of Japanese soldiers. Eventually, a Japanese grenade landed just out of reach of the three Marines. Without hesitation, Caddy threw himself on top of the grenade, using his own body to successfully shield the others from the explosion.

His fellow Marines survived, but Caddy was killed instantly. He was 19 years old.

In 1946, Caddy was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor, the highest decoration for valor awarded by the United States military. The city of Quincy dedicated the park to his memory in 1963.

Page 2 of 3 - History is a curious thing. Sometimes the things we choose to remember are not as important as the things we allow to fade into obscurity. It seems almost tragic that I only know of Caddy’s remarkable heroism because I happened to make a wrong turn.

Though the roots of Memorial Day date back to 1868, a Gallup Poll found that just 28 percent of Americans are able to define its true purpose: to honor the more than one million Americans who have died while serving their country in the Armed Forces.

Part of the problem is the abstract nature of such a staggering figure. We can’t know the stories of all those who gave their lives, but we must recognize that their stories exist. Each of the fallen represents someone like William Robert Caddy. Each of the fallen impacted the lives of the people they left behind.

Ott Farris of Birmingham, Ala., served with Caddy for about seven months and fought by his side in the Pacific. By the time he arrived with Caddy on Iwo Jima, Farris had already seen action at Guadacanal, Vella Le Vella and Bouganville.

But it was on Iwo Jima that Farris’s life was forever changed: he was one of the two Marines whose lives were saved when Caddy made the ultimate sacrifice.

After recovering from injuries caused by the concussion of the grenade that killed Caddy, Farris continued his service with the Marine Corps. He fought at the Battle of Inchon in Korea and served three tours of duty in Vietnam.

In more than three decades of Marine Corps service, Farris attained the rank of sergeant major and was awarded more than 30 medals and unit citations, including two Silver Stars in World War II and Korea, one Bronze Star, and two Purple Hearts. After he retired in 1968, Farris earned a college degree from the University of North Florida.

Ott Farris died on Sept. 1, 2010, at age 89. He left two children, three grandchildren and two great-grandchildren. In honor of the man who made the last 65 years of his life possible, he named one of his sons William Caddy Farris.

Reached at his Birmingham home in May 2010, Farris said that he still thought of Caddy “very often” and views Memorial Day as “a tribute to the dead, a chance to remember them and appreciate what they’ve done.”

Our appreciation of Caddy’s service can be summed up by the final sentence of his Medal of Honor citation: “He gallantly gave his life for his country.”

Farris' grandson David Farris, posted this comment about William Caddy on the web in 2008:

William Caddy was actually the man who saved my grandfather's life on Iwo Jima and the man my father is named after.

Page 3 of 3 - My grandfather has written several poems about William Caddy and speaks of him at every opportunity when asked of his service to our country.

I'm proud of the service my grandfather Sgt. Major Ott Farris gave to our country for over 33 years but all the more thankful for William Caddy's unselfish sacrifice that I might know this incredible man I call grandad.